


Being A Good Mother

by Caber345



Category: Original Work
Genre: Casual Pedophilia, Excessive Semen, F/M, Mind Break, Prostitution, Public Sex, Shotacon, Stripper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-06 01:59:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18841324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caber345/pseuds/Caber345
Summary: Katherine Bates is merely trying to be a good mother in a changing world. However, what she finds is that changing with the times might just be in the best interest of all who are involved.





	1. Being a Good Mother

Katherine Bates awoke that morning the same way she had awoke for the best part of the last decade: dreadful and worried. Her eyes bore into the white ceiling above her queen-sized bed and she closed them, praying that if she did, the day would simply move on without her. However, this was not to be, as a sudden shrill cut through the cut.

“Mom, wake up, it’s time for school!”, shouted the young voice that punctured the veil of escapism she had wrapped herself in.

The sounds of little feet tapping the hard-wood filled her eyes, and as they got closer, so did her dread increase. It was insane, really. What mother fears her own son? What woman fears a little boy? A cute little boy, yes, with rosy cheeks, a unusually slim and firm build, and of course, that raging, larger than necessary, bitch-breaking, co-the covers that were pulled over her eyes were drawn back suddenly.

Light entered her vision and with it her son, Joshua He was just on the cusp of tweenhood, nine years old and quite energetic. His messy blonde hair reflected the combination her own platinum locks and the donator she had taken to have him. Dimples on either cheek, with a bucktoothed smile, and precious green eyes, Katherine couldn’t deny it: her boy was just the cutest thing.

However, the further she went down, the quicker her thoughts turned to the lustful and threatened to become fried. His chest was flat but sculpted, a smooth white piece of meat that suggest good genes at work, his collar already sharp and chiseled. He pelvis was still a little boy like, but even then, it only added to the charm of all that was wrong with her lusting for him. Finally, she came to his…his..groin.

She would be a fool to deny the fact that Joshua’s cock made every man is she had ever been with look like the children he was supposed to be. Even flaccid as it was now, it hung 7 inches, the hood that had been there in infancy fully pulled back, showing a huge head of his phallus. The girth was shocking, as well, about three inches across. The worst(best) thing was the smooth. No roughness from years of hands on it, no hairs at his developing crotch, not even a pube. Just as clean as a whistle and good enough to eat from, something Katherine had to keep herself from doing daily.

“Josh, why are you naked and not clothed for school?”, she tried to sound intimidating but a clear breath taken before the sentence, flushed cheeks and her eyes continually staring at her sons’ cock was not helping that fact.

“They said that boys should feel free to express themselves and told boys they don’t have to wear clothes if they don’t want, So I’m not gonna”, Joshua exclaimed with boyish rebellion and joy.

The heat in Katherine’s face was from embarrassment, anger, and frustration. _Of course, they did, they always want to be like this._

“Joshua, go put on your uniform, please”.

“But mom, I-”

“No buts, young man.” With that came the first examination of Katherines’ day: saying no to her son. Back when he was born, she believed, eventually, she would be able to get to a point where the parental authority would come automatically. However, ever since …that day... the belief became more and more of a fleeting hope.

Joshua stared at her with some confusion, as if the wind had been fully knocked out of his figurative sails.

 “Okay, I will”, he said, obviously disappointed and making a cute pouty face as children would. Katherine breathed, believing herself successful and then smelt it: the aroma of her sons’ groin. Immediately, she felt the crotch of her panties become slick and was filled with need and desire.

“Right, now go, get them on, now”. She rushed him from the room and the moment he was out of sight, plunged her fingers deep into her cunt, desperate for relief.

She need not wonder where Joshua got his genes from, for her body was nothing short of amazing in its’ own right, as she examined it. Her breast, a solid F cup, were not the largest in this day and age, but firm and full, nonetheless, no sagging or fall despite being 32 years of age. Her hips, that were hugged by a violet nightie that threatened to pop off her at any moment, was thick and made for child-bearing, disappointing many a man with she plan to have a donator instead. However, ask her and her prize possession was the ass that was hugged snug in the back of her panties, matching the nightie above them.

Her moans carried throughout her room and, without a doubt, the house as well, probably filling her sons’ ears. At that moment, she didn’t care and simply needed the release of these emotions. While she sent her fingers to the knuckle inside her, her other hands began to examine and toy with her breast. Her nipple were especially sensitive and she executed as such, teasing them herself and slowly twirling her fingers around her areola.

 _Why, God, Why did you make him so fucking Cute?!!_   She didn’t need the answer nor an affirmation to reach her heights, but she needed more.

A decision reached, she let her mind wandered into the abyss of her taboos and let them begin to direct her thinking. _Oh, how did it come to this? Me, having to get off to the musk of my sons cock._ Her fingers began to speed up. _Could you blame me? That thing was meant to breed, make a bitch of every women he met_. The sounds of her cuntflesh began      to increase as she knuckled herself even harder. _Just imagine if I called him back, what would he do~♥_ Shame filled her, but only serviced to ramp up her debauchery.

 _“Oh, Joshua, don’t look at your whore of a mother”_ , the sex-drunk, mindfucked her said. The real one didn’t fair much better, the nasty slime like sounds of her pussy filling the air alongside moans of her sons’ name. The imagined Joshua would see the site and a predatory smile would come to his lips, a ridiculous thought, but just what she needed.

 “ _Geez, mom, if you need help that bad”, he said as he put his feet on either side of her chest and dropped his cock in front of her face, “Why didn’t you ask?” She would never hesitate for anything, never again, her mouth going for broke, her lips right at his head, tongue ready to-_

Her orgasm was hard, her body shaking and threatening to send her into a state of unconsciousness from the pleasure. Her scream that she let loose was one that could only come from having to withhold such want for so long, both out of principal and out of shame. Her fingers, never ceasing their pumping, soon cause of her a cramp and she finally was able to give herself rest and let the high begin to come down.

As she came down, shame overtook lust, but only by a little and that’s what frighten her. _How long? How long before-?_

“Mom, I’m ready. We have to go, I don’t wanna be later, later kids don’t get Mrs. Simmons special treatment till after lunch!” Right, Right, motherhood first, existential worries second.

 As Katherine drove Joshua to school, she began to wonder why she made him wear the uniform in the first place. Perhaps in a haste, she’d forgotten how uncouth the outfits and how, in some ways, the act of going naked would be a preferred alternative. The shirt, if it could be called that, were little more that halter-tops, tailored to each boy personally by the school seamstress, almost exactly exposing some form of midriff. Every fitting was precise, even if the process took 4 hours (Katherine had done it herself to examine and got it done it 30 minutes), so she already questioned the professionalism of this establishment. As if to present some form of decorum, the boy was to wear ties alongside this, a great win for the scholarly person.

However, most atrocious to Katherine were the pants, or as she called them, bloody jock straps with short pant legs. They didn’t nothing to hide the bulges of the young man, all 7 inches of boy meat compacted into a area that might as well be a G-string. The most damning thing of it? Katherine couldn’t tell if she wanted to call the people who designed it evil wretches or the most brilliant people of her time.

Her Time. That was a funny thought. As she stopped at a light, she let her eyes wonder to the road. To say that the sights still left her a bit queasy (and jealous) was a contender for understatement of the year, if not century.

Leading up into the school was a plaza of sort. A diamond shaped plaza at that one entrance, exiting into the subrurbs and the greater city and the other into the schoolyard and the parking lot. As such, there were four sides to the shape, and each seems to follow a certain theme that the school wished to impress upon its’ youthful proteges, and knowing what she did, these were but a few that the school had chosen to be publicized on this day.

The side closest to her, on her right was, relatively speaking, the tamest. While there was no active fucking and partaking of public intercourse(if you don’t count the sounds of boyfucking from the alley), the actions couldn’t be said to be wholesome. Women dressed in high-school girl outfits walked up and down the sidewalk. Many of them didn’t even fit into the outfits that they wore and therefore, fitted the outfits near to busting. She saw Rachel Brooks, a former colleague of hers’ at the newspaper.  Four years younger and just as enthusiastic, Katherine thought of her as a surrogate daughter of sorts. 

Her chest was not even properly covered by the small white blouse that was to be that shirt of her uniform, her nipples barely covered, the meat of her tits hanging freely from the underside of the outfit, the fat Double H’s almost snapping the buttons. Her hair was done into long pigtails, two seams of crimson, descending from her head, all the while, her sucked a sucker in her mouth.

Her lower extremities were no better, a skirt short enough, that the underwear underneath was longer than the skirt itself, clear to all views. The underwear was a lime-green thong, nestled neatly and completely into her firm and bouncing ass cheeks and was completely eaten by her labia, allowing all to see her pussy lips. She was surrounded by similarly-dressed women, some actually high-school girls and some mothers, like Katherine. As the boys walked towards the school, the girls would flash her skirts, showing either thongs, panties, or nothing at all.

However, Rachel was the worst, getting to her knees and making a rude blowjob gesture with her tongue and hands.

“Hey, boys. Wanna have some fun before you go to class? I need some studs to helps teach these girls what they’re gonna be doing for the rest of their lives~. So why not skip a few classes? They won’t mind ♥”.  Katherine saw one boy go and was immediately engulf by the horde, a throw of kisses and coos on him, with him eventually led into the alley behind them, where the sounds of coitus flung high in the air.

While her right was more suggestive and more private in some way, her left abandoned that like the women abandoned their clothes. On this side, though not done with the bright lights of Vegas, there was no other way to put it: it was a line of strip joints. The only patrons were boys, ages 10-13( _we have to think of the young was the reasoning behind the age limit)_. Many of the women dressed in bright nylon colors, bright yellows and green pasties, thongs, and fishnets body-stockings, all leading boys in.

If you saw inside, you would see a main stage with a strip expertly working a pole, her oldest guest barely hitting the stage in height. In the private chambers, young boys were greeted to women giving lap dances that would grind on their crotches, unzips their pants, and tease them mercilessly as they’d try to that hard cum (and cash, if that came about). That was the even more exclusive back room, where a boy could pay for a completely private dance(usually 30 dollars), at which point the owner, a older woman, mid 30’s, still rather nice looking, nothing compared to the dancers, would give the boy a very, very nice condom( holes clearly poked in) and send him off with the dancer he choose. If you were lucky, the boy would be back after about an hour to an hour and a half of dancing. If not, it was best to assume the boy was staying the night. After all the nice rooms were usually with a bed in them.

 

The one on the far left of her was less willing to be kind about keeping it private, consider they were openly naked and fornicating right there. Many were older women, all letting it hang bare, servicing hung young boys left and right. The only condition was that many wore a type of collar or tag, not unlike a animal. Katherine’s eyes sent sight on one such woman, Kesley Rohan.

Kesley Rohan, a teacher at her sons’ school, was currently walking the sidewalk up to it. That would encourage her, if not for the fact that she was naked and currently was collared by a boy, who couldn’t be any older than her own son, walking her like a pet. When asked later by some, she said that the boy was her nephew and that he had merely began to have an interest in petplay as taught by the school and needed a willing partner and who was she to deny him? Her fat breast, filled with milk from her last pregnancy, swayed and every two minutes, her nephew would smack her naked ass, causing a trail of liquid to cascade down her thighs and a loud moan followed by a bark would emerge from her. Eventually, before even reaching hallway, her nephew mounted her, nine inches of boymeat entering her cunt without wait. The moans she let loose would haunt Katherine for the rest of her life, if she was blessed to see it.

Speaking of blessings, the side that existed to the left of this one (far right to her) was the most horrible, in her opinion. This section of the diamond was once home to a nunnery, a home of God. While Katherine wasn’t peculiar religious, she had a soft spot for a place of worship being kept as such and having it be respected. The current patrons, however, clearly didn’t share her beliefs.

The head nun, a woman hadn’t recognized nor cared do, was clearly in front of the building, her hips bouncing upon a boy’s hips. The boy was one of the older ones, at the age of 13. Her attire was at best, a mockery of nunnery and at worst, a complete and utter whorish rendition. Her arms and legs were covered by stockings that had, respectively, open finger holes and open toes and heels in them, a pattern of the cross on both sets. However, the entire rest of her outfit consisted of a single cross-based sling bikini, the words “God is Wonderful” horizontally printed and “His seed is planted” going down vertically. The nun’s habit, of course, sat perfectly and neatly upon her skull.

Of course, the bottom had pushed to the sides as to let the boy under her into her depths. She wasn’t alone, however, surrounded by the women of faith, all taking a boy in as many holes as possible, in similar attire. One was in a doggy-style fuck, receiving plentiful helps of cock in both her anus and vaginal orifices.

“The Lord blesses me with the seeds of the new kings! Impregnate me, treat this lost lamb as your-“ Her spirited sermon was cut short by another boy, eight by the looks of it, when he stuffed his 8 inches down her throat and silenced her. Another was in the mating press as a particularly well-endowed child(11 inches from what Katherine could see) was pounding her into the ground.

“The lord forgives you, my child! All sins are laid bare at his feet. Release them into me, it’s a nun’s duty to relieve her lambs of their sins! Release them, release them, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fucking break me into a pregnant toilet~~~♥♥♥”! He honored her request, filling her right then and there, a cascading waterfall of ball-juice leaking from her overflowing cunt. As if setting a reaction, every boy began to come, a wondrous sight of ball-sludge and nut flowing from the nuns, the head nun giving thanks.

“On this day, we, the nuns of Babylon, give thanks to God, for bringing us such studs and-Oh God, he’s already hard again!~~” And as such, they began again, the boys already energized to go another round.

Katherine watched it all at the light and wondered what life might’ve be like it she just took her son and let him observe, let him find a niche, find what she can do for him. How she could be a better mother in this world.

“Mom, the light’s green.” Oh, it was. She drove up the street and came into the parking lot of his school: Saint Jezebel, the wise. She felt like today was going to be a very important day.

 


	2. Saint Jezebel

When you entered Saint Jezebel, the first thing that would hit you is the smell. The waft of Lavender in the air was so heavy, you could feel it sink into the fabric of your clothes and sink the moment you became exposed to it.  Katherine often though that it was quaint: the idea that the lovely smell could cover the semen-traced scent in the hall and the not-so-quiet sound of intercourse throughout the school.

She currently looked herself over in one of the bathroom. She decided for her visit here, appearances needed to be kept, as her justification for the Coral lipstick that rested on her lips. Her outfit was a simple sundress, matching the color of her lipstick, finished off with a large blue sun hat, take off once in the school. She believed that all things being equal, she was not hurting anyone by dressing a bit more conservative than most, though considering her bosom, her breast barely stayed their welcome.

She had let Joshua go and let him find his class, her eyes following not him, but several of the teachers as they eyed him and welcomed him back to the school. She didn’t mind, no, she didn’t mind the hugs, the very, _very_ personal hugs that woman, who were at least two feet taller than him were giving him. Nor, the kisses, barely missing his mouth but no less as deep on his cheek and hair. Hell, she didn’t even find the fact that one of them, Mrs. Simmons, his homeroom teacher, a black woman with a bowl-cut hair and motherly hips, decided to “examine” him and check his body for “intrustions” and how she caress his back, “relaxing the muscle for later”, massaged his thighs while hugging him, and how that whore though that she could have _her son_ and that the black big-lipped slut was-

Katherine held a breath. _10\. 9. 8. 5. 3. 2. 1._ There would be time for that later. She knew that. As Katherine walked through the school for a personal meeting with it head mistress on the school, she noted and saw several classes. The grades were separated by floor, the first having the youngest boys, age 6-8, like her Josh, were on the ground floor, taught by the newest teachers and often were the usual classes.

Math was taught by traditionally methods, a blackboard and a piece of chalk. However, many teachers took their own approach, often making each boy remove a piece of clothing for each wrong question. With the uniform already sparse for taste, the method would go become madder after the clothes where gone. After that, every wrong question was met with a tonguing of the anus and a blowjob, while the boy is taught to do the problem correctly.  

“It’ll help them become more familiar with the material if they are able to reconcile it with a sensation”, was the reason she was given for walking in one day and seeing a boy of 10, red hair like fire and slender like a doll, being hung upside down by the woman, his large cock filling one of the teachers faces( the black one, if Katherine remember correctly) and another tonguing his hole while in keeping him in the same position. She almost requested that Josh be put in another class but apparently, this method had made test scores soar quite a bit above the competition so it was school-wide a practice and not something she could avoid.

The History was equally as fascinating. You see, most of the teachers, if you haven’t keyed into it by now, were a very “hands-on approach” type of teaching. The type that says that being able to roleplay the past is a good way of understanding its implications and the aftermaths that came with it. A little “dramatic exaggeration” of the events could help the children learn the horrors of the history of their nation and understand both the glories and hardships that it had worn for the years. As such, the history class would have little performances where the boys would act out the history of the country on stage for their peers and some of the other teachers.

However, as with many things, Katherine would be hard-pressed to see the admittingly honorable goal in the perversion that came about. You see, as this was an all-boys school, the teachers didn’t exactly have a clear assortment of young girls to play in these reenactments. It was no matter in the schools eyes, the teachers themselves could play the damsels in distress or the wives of the pioneers or even the tavern maid in a play about old America.

This led to several problems: for one, the outfits that the women would wear to this plays and shows were, kindly putting it, three sizes too small and were worn more like lingerie than anything. The same could be said for the boys who were participating. In one of the scenes that was discussing the discovering of America, the young and shining Columbus wore nothing but his coat and a hat, his phallus lingering in plain sight of everyone. The women “savages” that he would meet had no formal clothing and merely worn thongs with leopard-skin patterns and matching pasties for the nipples of their breasts.

This is not to mention production value, or more correctly, how distributing good it was. Considering that most of the women in this town were boy-crazy and would as soon as prostate themselves before a little boy as work, often they determined that these plays need and had great sets to work on.

However, that wasn’t the biggest issue. Katherine never really cared much about the history of her nation: it was the past, let it go and let us move on with ourselves and make something more.  That said, even she (when the actions didn’t turn her on immensely) was not sold on the “history” had was being told to the children today.  


Case in point, the show she saw now as she passed the history section. This week: the enslavement of African Americans during the later 17th century. She could hear the sounds before she got to the room.

“GCKGKHGK-GKJHHKJ-GCKGKC!”

“Show that white bitch how life’s supposed to truly be!”

“Don’t give her any mercy, this is what she wants. Show her that blacks are better!”

Katherine, with that delighted introduction, peered into the room.

The stage was simple: inside the middle of a barn in the middle of Summer. The floor reflected this as the stage was covered in hay thrown about. Clearly, the stalls were empty, on account of the being no stallions around (at least no horse stallions) in the school. Finally, in the center, the main piece of the attraction was unfolding: one of the young black males, Bryon Penn, if Katherine remembered correctly, was currently being given the most enthusiastic and sloppy blowjob Katherine had ever seen from one of the white teachers.

Mrs, or rather now, Miss Kerschew, was a bimbo. Katherine felt no issue in describing her as such when the woman introduced herself at PTA’s routinely as “Boycum drunk bimbo Danielle Kerschew” to any newcomers. She looked the part, that for damn sure. It was supposed to be like a maid outfit: A skirt that would touch the floor, a head scarf, and thick sweaters for a shirt. What was that instead was a skirt shorter than her hips, leaving her thick creamy white ass completely exposed, a tattoo saying “Bitch for Nigger dick” on one ass cheek and a tramp stamp saying “repayment for black boys”, the tattoo being your eyes to her ass and alerting you to what was made to repaid the years of slavery.

The boy himself seemed to be none too impressed, silently keeping a hand on the blond woman’s head, her double-d cup breasts pressed into the floor as she pushed her throat and face onto his cock, A obisidan pillar of meat that, if it wasn’t engulfed in the meat of a women’s throat, would hang from him like a hose. The flesh of his cock was smooth as silk, looking more inviting than cotton, even silked up and down with the slobber of a fuck-drunk woman.  The testicles had belonged to such a magnificent piece of manhood were no less impressive, orbs that glistened and tighten, suggesting that the boy was cumming soon, but if he was, his expression drew no difference. Katherine found it somewhat arousing, the idea of a boy having no care about the woman he was using, simply cumming and going as if the woman were nothing more than a common whore. _Granted, that wasn’t too far from most teachers, but the thought count for something,_ Katherine had convinced herself. As she kept up, her head would be summarily pressed back down by Bryon, her cunt raining honey down every time, the sound of her throating the boy’s cock echoing, her body spamming with each current of female cum squirting from her body, legs scratching the floor, a writhing mess of a woman. Meanwhile, the audience was filled with black and white women, most of whom carried a similar child next to them, all cheering him on.  


“That bitch should feel honored to have a Nigger’s dick in her throat, it’s the only thing it’s good for and she needs to know that.” A similar looking white woman to Miss Kerschew, although her hair was a neatly princess cut instead of the wild maze that was Kerschews, proudly sported.  She was sat between two similar dark children, her arms clearly holding both close, her chest swelling with heavy breath, barely contained in a white blouse shirt that and pulling the children closer so that their face nearly rested in her cleavage. Her legs were open, the thigh mounds of thigh meat pinched and absorbed into white stocking that connected to a garter belt, of which no panties were wore, her cunt lips rosy and clear for all see or touch if they dared. Her face was best described as lecherous, her eyes rolling into her head, her tongue falling from her lips in a crooked smile. Deciding that she had more urgent matters to attend do, she left the room, the last image as she left being Miss Kerschew attacking the lips of one of the boys with her own, her eyes nearly rolling into her head from her own inflated ecstasy.

As Katherine past the lower grades and began to ascend into the higher grades, passing an entire encyclopedia worth of debauchery along the way, she found that by the time she was at the higher end of the school, ages 9-12, she found that all pretenses of pretending to be civil were dropped.

Such was the class before the headmistress’s office, whom she had come to see. It was called “Home Ec and you: How to please a Stud”.

Katherine wanted to past it. She convinced her once, twice, five times that she wasn’t going to look. Her body wasn’t tingling with the urge to watch and feast upon the show that was producing sounds of absolute pleasure and screams of ecstasy behind the closed door, her clit hard with needed release, despite her earlier masturbatory habits. She desperately attempted to tell herself, as her hands slowly came to the door, that what she was looking at wasn’t for herself but to know what not to let her son get into when he finally came of age, being only two years removed from the age bracket.

“That’s all it is…just to keep Joshua out of these women’s hands…if only for a little bit.” With that line of confidence and falsified belief, she took the plunge and opened the door.

The sight that met her eyes were the engrossed testicles of a boy slamming into the womb of a high school girl. Being that they were front and center of the classroom, it was no small feat but doable due to their size. Katherine believed that over the years, she had seen many a large testicle, many of which she didn’t want to see, and more she would never again speak of. These, however, were simply…perfect. Both the size of a small apple and smooth white creamy skin bouncing back and forth. Constantly hitting the girl in the anus, Katherine would fin herself hard-pressed to say that she held no jealously of the girl on the table.

Speaking of which, Katherine must have come at a bad time as the girl suddenly screamed, shocking her and the class, most of which sat in long bench like desks, most of the “students” older girls from the high school down the street and a few boys.  


“CUMMING! ~ I’M CUMMING~!” It was hard to ignore her proclamation as her body began to spasm underneath the boy, his orgasm evident by both his decreased plunging into her cunt and the residue of his ejaculation spilling from her crotch, as if he had overloaded it. _From the looks of it, definitely is more of a appropriate term,_ Katherien bemused to her. Despite the girl’s orgasm not finishing, her pussy still leaking some femcum, the boy quickly removed himself and exited her velvet halls. The sight was tremendous: the seed of the boy, like that of porridge, sloped out of her womb, her body seemingly convulsing with every new pulse of yellowish spunk.

“Now, before I give one of you the privilege of cleaning her up, whom here can explain to me, what the proper response to a male claiming you should be?” A voice breaking her daydream, Katherine looked to behind the thoroughly fucked girl. A woman in her mid-30’s stood, looking not a day over 22.  The definition of the “scary but arousing librarian,” her face was sculptured, a nice point of her chin. Her body supported the look, willow but not unhealthy, a stark contrast to all the girls, with massive blonde, black, and purple hair, and bodies like those of prostitutes. Hell, even Katherine felt as through she had a proper leg up on the woman, but she wasn’t one to gloat. Her chest, compared to the others was a mere Double D cup and was flowed freely from having no shirt on, her lower extremities not sharing the same freedom, in a pencil skirt.

It was perhaps because of the more “chaste” look that many would say that Mrs. Morris was considered the school most outward slut. Sure, her looks may not give it away, but her attitude towards her craft was unparalleled. In fact, the reason the girls were there that day was a workshop by the miss of the Morris class in how to accept the more than likely role of being a mother to a kid half as old as you and what do expect. Consider she herself had mother at least two children of two different boys. Her husband never complained, considering that the last time she saw him before coming in, he was being skewed by several shots himself, being that the best physical description of him was “femmeboi with a pension for wearing high heels.”

One of the girls raised their hands: “You’re supposed to thank him for cumming inside of you.”

A dismissive click of the tongue and a wave of the hand. “No. Anyone else?”

“Praise him for how much he came?”

“Wrong again.”

 “Wallow in mock self-prostration to make him want to fuck you more?”

“Clean yourself and go to his mother to announce that you’ve been claim by her stud of a son?”

“Thinking about how great it would be if he had friends over so they could run a train?”

“No, maybe, and I like you thinking, Kalie, but no. Girls, you’re supposed to ask him if he would like you to get your friends, mother, and others and see if he wants to fuck them as well.” An exasperated sigh amongst a chorus of Oh’s and smacks against makeup foreheads rang throughout the class. “I swear, just cause your brains are nothing but boy-cocks, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t know how to please a man!”

Katherine was so engrosses in the lecture, that she did not feel the hand that sat upon her shoulder nor did she remember the ceiling being so close to her head after the new person spoke into her ear:

“So, I take it that you wanted to join the classroom?”

Once Katherine was sure that her chest wasn’t about to explode from her heart making a great dash, she turned to the voice, though she didn’t need to see the person to know who it was: Rosia Price, the headmistress of Saint Jezebel, the head nun of the Nuns of Babylonia, and an old “friend”, if you counted having enough arguments to fill the library of Congress as friendship. Rosia had a natural beauty to her, skin that was sun kissed, a beautiful tan glowing across her body, a light shin coming across it. She wore her nun’s habit proudly, covering her hair, which Katherine knew to be wavy and black. Maybe to save some face, her remaining had similar sleeves to the nuns Katherine had seen on the street, except all black, and instead of a scandalous one-piece, hers’ was a one-piece that looked appropriate for swim wear.  


“Ah Rosia, good to see you. A fine fashion choice, as always.” With this woman, Katherine decided that punches could be held only for a moment before they entered the room and then all bets were off. Still, she decided to poke the bear, just to see what would happen.

She got her answer in the form of a smile. While for most this is different, Katherine knew better. The wrinkles on the sides of the mouth, the accented curves of the closed eyes, as if not to have your vision clouded by red, the tilt to the side of her neck. Oh, yes, Katherine knew the tells and knew them well. Alongside pleasuring herself, it was one of her favorite things: pissing Rosia off. She knew that Rosia didn’t truly care about the outfit, she’d fucked her own sons in front of Katherine at one point. No, this was simply a battle of stubborn pride, and Katherine already had one point to her name.

“Yes, well, join me in my chambers, would you? Wouldn’t want anyone seeing a mother watching younger women and their futures, now would we?” Rosia kept that same smile in both tone and position while she spoke that sentence, her hand offering entrance to her humble abode. Katherine simply waltz into the room, ignoring the woman outstretched hand, ignoring the sound of puffed air.

The room was decently furnished, a glass window decorated with the Christian Cross, a work that wouldn’t be out of place in a Gothic building. Considering the nature of the building, she wasn’t surprised to see one boy, fully nude, standing beside her desk, a pillar of tan meat extending from his crotch, the head bulging and wet, a full cup of what she could only guess what his residue underneath him. The boy’s face, covered in wild hair and flushed cheeks, spoke to this, alongside a steady rising and falling of his chiseled tan chest, as if breathing easily again after a marathon.

“So what brings you here, Katherine? I assume that Joshua is doing quite well?”, the nun said with what could pass for genuine curiosity, stepping past Katherine and bending over to pick up the cup, her ass two globes of fine meat, separated by a thick thread that was eaten by the caress of her butt.

“I would assume you would know; you know, your teachers are very connected to the students and all.” Katherine spat back, barely keeping a smile in the proceedings.

“Mom, can I go now?” The young boy spoke with a quiet voice, clearly attempting to not to upset Rosia, whom was already starting to pop a small vein in the top of her head. Knocking back at least half of the glass back into her mouth and gurgle the taste, she swallowed and spoke.

“Yes, Yes, Miles. Just get yourself cleaned and get ready to go. Mommy will be just a minute with Miss Bates.” Ah, Miss Bates. Another sign that she was under her skin, just the way she liked it. As the boy began to do as his mother commanded, Rosia’s gaze turn back to Katherine and immediately was hardened.

“You’ve still not answered my question, Miss Bates. Why have you decided to come to my office, despite our previous arrangements being things of less than “cooperative” nature?” Rosia held a perplexed look in her eyes. Katherine could only smile as she reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of paper, the amount of which towered enough that upon setting it on the desk, her head was covered from Rosia’s view. _Good for it, too, otherwise I might laugh too hard from her expression._

“…What. The. Hell. Is. That.” Rosia’s face was unseen but her voice betrayed her, a calm like the winds before the breaking storm casting upon a shore. It was evident that Katherine wasn’t the only one to sense it as Miles seemed to stop cleansing himself immediately and adopted a look reminiscent of a chastised puppy, eyes slightly teary and widen. Katherine cared for none of it.

“Well, you see, I thought about what we talked about last time.”

“You didn’t.”

“And it got me thinking: where would I go to find the proper signatures and people to support me?”

“Katherine, you couldn’t.” The edge that had once risen in her voice now descended into a shocked whisper, a barely comprehended push of air flowing form her mouth. Katherine could only smirk as she stood and handed the top paper to Rosia. The font was professional, the decorations less so with the seals and approvals stamps of a petitions, it wanted desire clear in bold at the top.

“It seems that a lot of women don’t understand nor see the need for your “no one mate” policy. They agree with me, so to answer your question, it’s simple: let me marry my son.”

To anyone who heard that statement, they’ve would’ve thought themselves mad with delusions. Katherine was the farthest and away most stuck-up prudish woman they knew. She barely looked at any of the boys with lust, often it being a rare sight that if spotted, was more like rumor and speculation than actual truth. The truth was, Katherine cared not for the massive dicks, nor the “perfect” male. No, her want was simple: if she was going to allow herself to fall and become a part of this world of pedophilic debauchery, then her terms were simple: the one she wanted to fuck her into a whore, the one she wanted to serve without question or thought, the one she wanted above all else, was her precious, hung, beautiful, stud of a son.


End file.
